Chapter 189: About the wedding (Part 1)

Chapter 189: The Wedding (Part 1)

The official account of Fu Group was once again overwhelmed.

Once, a photo of a tiny tot on tiptoes gazing at fish had garnered countless fans for the account. Now, another picture sent netizens into a frenzy.

The image showed a man in vibrant red wedding attire and a woman in a phoenix coronet and embroidered robes bowing to each other. Though only half their faces were visible, the sight drove everyone wild.

"Is this my darling’s mom? She looks so, so incredibly gentle!"

"What do the Fu family feed their children? How do they all turn out so stunning?"

"The capital’s wealthiest bachelor is married! How many socialites must be weeping in the restroom?"

The wedding was entirely orchestrated by Fu Cheng.

Having centuries of experience, Fu Cheng handled this wedding with exceptional ease.

It was a grand and intricate traditional Chinese ceremony, with invitations extended to all available relatives and friends. Even passersby were welcome to enter the hotel; a simple auspicious greeting granted them entry to partake in the celebration.

Unlike the simplicity of Western weddings, the bride’s phoenix coronet and embroidered robes alone were crafted by the finest embroiderers, who worked tirelessly day and night to complete the attire just before the wedding.

As for Qing Zhi, the bride-to-be, she remained as carefree as ever, as if the impending marriage belonged to someone else entirely.

On the wedding day, Fu Group’s five-star hotel was bustling with people.

Qing Zhi sat in the dressing room, her equally festively dressed little daughter nestled in her arms.

"Mommy, didn't Daddy marry you before?"

Zhi Zhi held a cheese stick, nibbling at it in tiny bites, much like a little hamster gnawing on a nut.

Back when Zhi Zhi lived in the lake, the little fish and shrimp all spoke of her daddy as an extraordinary man.

If Daddy was so amazing, why hadn't he married Mommy?

Qing Zhi was naturally beautiful; she needed little makeup to appear like a lotus emerging from water—radiant and captivating, impossible to look away from.

Hearing her daughter’s question, Qing Zhi frowned slightly, lost in thought.

"He did marry me once, but that was a very long time ago... That wedding was also incredibly grand..."

Like a maiden in the bloom of youth, Qing Zhi’s delicate cheeks flushed with warmth.

"Grand" was an understatement—it was unprecedented and unparalleled.

When a War God took a bride, no one dared to be remiss.

Qing Zhi still remembered her wedding robes, handwoven by the Weaving Maiden herself, and the floral crown crafted by divine birds. Amidst the blessings of all beings, she and her Ah Cheng had performed their marital bows.

Though she thought she would be accustomed to it after centuries, the mere thought of Ah Cheng marrying her again still made her heart pound wildly.

Zhi Zhi nodded at her mother’s reflection in the mirror. Today, she was the ring-bearing flower girl. Attending her parents’ wedding for the first time, she was so nervous she had already devoured three cheese sticks.

Covering her mouth, she let out a tiny, cheese-scented burp before blinking her large, watery eyes—unable to conceal the sheer joy within them.

Meanwhile, in the presidential suite, Fu Cheng stood before a full-length mirror, repeatedly adjusting the large hydrangea flower on his chest.

Frowning, he remained dissatisfied with his posture. "Jing Yi, take another look for me. Why does this flower keep tilting? Can’t we just pin it in place?"

On the nearby sofa, the three sons of the Fu family slumped exhaustedly.

Fu Jingyi, already tormented for two straight days, wearily lifted his gaze and gave his father a thumbs-up.

Even the usually energetic Fu Siyuan was hugging a pillow, seizing the chance for a quick nap.

Half-asleep, he heard his father’s fiftieth or sixtieth inquiry and forced his eyes open, looking utterly exasperated.

"Dad, you’ve adjusted that flower dozens of times. We already pinned it for you, but you were worried about poking holes in the wedding robes!"

"It’s perfectly straight, truly perfect. You’re the handsomest groom in the world—no one compares."

Listening to his youngest son’s half-complaint, half-perfunctory reply, Fu Cheng’s frown remained.

Pursing his lips, he let out a light "tsk" and said, "Or perhaps we should postpone the wedding and have the embroiderers redesign the robes for me?"

Even though he had hired the most skilled artisans, and everyone who saw his and A'Zhi’s wedding attire would marvel at it, Fu Cheng was still not satisfied with this set of robes.

Compared to the wedding robes the Weaving Maiden had personally crafted for his first marriage to A'Zhi, these seemed to fall short.

Hearing their father suggest postponing the wedding, the three Fu sons immediately bolted upright in alarm.

"Dad, the invitations have already been sent out. Chen Shi said there are many people from the capital downstairs, all rushing to give you and Auntie their blessings. If you postpone now, you’ll be mobbed."

"Dad, it’s already perfect. You’ve worked tirelessly for months for this wedding. You’re finally about to marry Auntie A'Zhi. If you postpone, Auntie A'Zhi will be unhappy too."

"If you let your bride-to-be slip away now, Dad, don’t expect us to help you if Auntie gets mad."

For once, Fu Yuchen and Fu Siyuan—who were usually at odds—were in perfect sync.

Just organizing this wedding had already exhausted them. If it got postponed and they had to do it all over again, wouldn’t they be utterly drained twice over?

The mere thought made them shudder.

Though Fu Cheng was dissatisfied with the robes, the idea of A'Zhi refusing another wedding—and him having to embark on another quest to win her back—terrified him.

Remembering the centuries of loneliness, the craving for a warm family life suddenly surged within him.

No longer obsessing over the arrangement of the hydrangea on his chest, he straightened his robes and strode toward the door.

"Dad, where are you going?"

Fu Cheng turned back. "Where else? To marry A'Zhi, of course."

Fu Jingyi massaged his temples. "The auspicious hour hasn’t arrived yet. Assistant Chen will come to get you when it’s time. You’re really..."

As the eldest son, Fu Jingyi felt he bore too much.

Fu Cheng chuckled awkwardly, retracting his steps and sitting back down in the living room. The man who usually sat with such swagger now had his knees together, appearing comically meek.

When Chen Shi finally came to announce it was time to go downstairs, Fu Cheng sprang up from the sofa.

The tall figure strode toward the door, leaving the three Fu sons standing dumbfounded, their faces blank.

"Did Dad just... walk with the same arm and leg?"

"He did. *Pfft*—"

"HAHAHAHA—" The presidential suite instantly erupted with the laughter of three young men.

Even Chen Shi, standing at the door, couldn't help but notice his CEO's awkward, stiff walk. Risking his bonus, he quickly stepped forward and whispered into the CEO's ear.

Realizing the string in his mind had been stretched too tight, Fu Cheng immediately cleared his throat.

He pressed his lips together and grumbled in a low voice, "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

He turned his head to glance at his three sons trailing behind him, their eyes twinkling with amusement, and gritted his back teeth, saying, "You little rascals—just love seeing me make a fool of myself!"

Chen Shi pressed his lips together, suppressing a chuckle as he lowered his head and guided the CEO forward.